


Perfect and Necessary Darkness

by cactuskiller



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Asthmatic Steve Rogers, Bad Flirting, Blasphemy, Boys Kissing, Established Relationship, Flirting, Gay Sex, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Religious Undertones, Trans Male Character, Trans Steve Rogers, Vaginal Fingering, casual blasphemy, i guess?, no beta we die like men, trans porn by trans author
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:34:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24315883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cactuskiller/pseuds/cactuskiller
Summary: Bucky motions down unmistakably before Steve nods enthusiastically, his pupils blown - already looking so fuckable. That’s all the encouragement Bucky needs.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 1
Kudos: 56





	Perfect and Necessary Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> tw: steve is a trans man. this contains oral sex and fingering. i refer to steve's parts as a "cock" and "entrance". there is no intentionally triggering language or specific mention of him being trans. in this universe he uses an undershirt as a binder.

Their lips press tight against each other, open and gasping like air is a long-gone conclusion. Shared breath - hot and wet and heavy - spoke all the words they wanted to say. Bucky’s tongue is moving complimentary to Steve’s, a slow dance that has them both wanting more. Their long kiss ends when Steve taps out, his lungs struggling under the pressure. He sits up on the bed, leaning against the wall where the headboard would be - if they had one. It’s not much, this apartment they have, but it’s theirs. And God, Steve could count on his fingers the number of times he’s had something that was just _his_. 

“ _God_ \- Stevie, you’re so beautiful. No dame could compare to you,” says Bucky, fully expecting a sucker punch. Steve’s been getting stronger, from the training they’ve been doing at Goldie’s Boxing Gym. He’s more confident too, and when the slug comes it just makes Bucky harder, if anything.

“Pass me the inhaler, punk,” is what comes from a still out-of-breath and now blushing Steve Rogers. But like the gentleman he is - Bucky proudly tells himself - he reaches over to the gaudily painted nightstand they definitely didn’t take from the curb. They always keep Steve’s inhalers there now after one panicked night. Steve had woken up from a nightmare - his mom’s tuberculosis still haunted him sometimes. He was gasping, panicked, convinced he was _dying_ , and Bucky had stumbled through the dark over everything they owned to find Steve’s satchel. Bucky still teased him about the beating his toes took.

Steve takes one puff, two, and then frowns down at his inhaler. “I think it’s almost empty,” he muses, and then startles when Bucky’s hand dwarfs his own.

“We can pay for it. I’ll find another job down by the docks,” Bucky reassures gently. “And anyways, weren’t we up to something more exciting? I wanna make you feel good, Steve.” They both smile at that, an unspoken conversational pause between them. And then Steve’s reaching out, clever hands and an artist’s fingers insinuating themselves in Bucky’s tented boxers, just touching. And oh, Bucky’s face always creases so beautifully when they’re doing this - when he’s feeling good. Steve loves those scrunched-up eyes, the same ones from Bucky’s signature grin. 

Bucky finds the initiative to shoo Steve’s hand away and slide off his boxers, a small wet mark on them already. He helps Steve out of his underwear too, and then they’re both naked from the waist down. Steve still has an undershirt on, but that’s okay, Bucky just wants him to be comfortable. “Let me?” Bucky motions down unmistakably before Steve nods enthusiastically, his pupils blown - already looking so fuckable. That’s all the encouragement Bucky needs to lay down and start licking at Steve’s thighs suggestively.

He’s so, so close to Steve’s cock and it’s almost unbearable. Steve’s thighs hitch up, and he’s leaking precum already, desperate just for Bucky. And of course, obligingly, always the gentleman, Bucky starts mouthing at him, little-kitten licks that aren’t nearly enough. Steve moans, low and long, desperate. He’s feeling so good and he needs more. His hips cant up, wanting - no, _needing_ \- more friction on his cock. That’s when Bucky lowers his head further, taking all of Steve into his mouth and swirling his tongue like it’s the best meal he’s ever had. That’s how Bucky coaxes Steve’s first orgasm out - keeping Steve’s thighs spread with a gentle mouth suctioned over his cock.

Steve nearly convulses when he comes, his hips bucking against Bucky’s face - his only thought about needing more of that delicious, wet sensation. He comes down from it slowly, keeping his breathing in check as Bucky rises, licking his lips. They kiss again slowly, Steve tasting himself and it’s pure sex. There’s a little inhalation of warm air, of surprise, as Steve feels a questioning finger against his entrance. He nods again, this time into the kiss, and breaths out his pleasure into Bucky as a calloused finger slides into him. His arousal eases the way, but Bucky still goes slow. He pumps his finger in and out, pressure against Steve’s walls. 

Steve’s eyes are closed, his senses all focused on Bucky, who’s adding another finger now that he’s stretched out. It’s such a warm feeling, all this building energy concentrated in his core. Steve slides his own hand down to touch his cock just the way he likes - jacking himself off with little circles and pulls. The combination of sensation feels so good that he can’t help but cry out his pleasure unapologetically. Steve feels himself crest another orgasm and his hips ride Bucky’s fingers as his own hand speeds into a blur over his cock. One last longing groan slips from his lips so easy as Bucky’s fingers slide out, squelching and shiny. 

Bucky wipes his fingers off on what is a prodigal wet spot he knows they’ll regret having to sleep in later. He catches Steve leaning forward, his arms sliding securely around the body he’s mapped out so many times before. “Was that okay? Are you done?” Bucky offers. And of course Steve awakens from whatever afterglow coma he’d been floating in and shakes his head with a quick “I want to make you feel good too.” Bucky laughs as they separate and he turns his attention to his own cock. It’s a watercolor of deep red and purple, base twitching and circumcised head weeping need. 

Steve’s clever hand reaches over again, wraps those long fingers around Bucky’s cock and begins to stroke, a gentle up-and-down-twist. Every few pumps he works his thumb around the head of Bucky’s cock, dipping into his slit. Steve’s eyes are only for him, reverential like the shaft in his hand is the holy vessel and Steve is receiving a sacramental blessing straight from the altar that is Bucky’s body. Bucky comes at that thought, white stripes painting a narrow face and delicate eyelashes that blink at him. Two pairs of blue eyes meet, clear and sure and filled with so much love. 

And then Bucky breaks the moment by laughing at Steve scowling exaggeratedly at the cum on his face. “Sorry darlin’,” Bucky giggles, rising to grab a towel.


End file.
